To Live Forever
by OriginalVampDiarist
Summary: Elijah and Klaus establish themselves in the ancient, walled French city of Langres after WWII. There, they quickly meet a powerful witch who promises to change every aspect of their existence up to this point and show them what it means to live forever.
1. Chapter 1

Langres, France 1948

She opened her eyes, blinking a number of times; slowly letting the dappled golden light of the early morning sun past her eyelids in short bursts. After a few moments, she managed to keep them open. She lay in her single bed, atop a lumpy mattress stuffed with wool, under a thin, patched cotton coverlet. Staring at the ceiling, she listened to the sounds of the day beginning which drifted up to her bedroom through the open window. At last, she sighed and swung her legs across the bed in a swift motion, causing the blanket to fall to the floor, and rose. The ancient stone floor was cold, causing her to dance up on her toes in order to touch as little of it as possible.

There was no mirror in the room. Hers had been shattered by the roar of gun-fire and aerial assaults which caused everything affixed to the old stone walls to shake loose of them at the outset of war. After, such things had become rare and hard to come by, so she did without. Unaware of what it looked like, she brushed out her shoulder-length auburn hair. She went to the closet and selected a light green cotton dress which fluttered around her knees as she walked. She slipped the dress over her head and pulled a pair of stockings up her legs, clipping each into place on her garter belt. Then, she slid her hands across the front of the dress from her bust line to the top of her thighs, smoothing it out.

She ran down the stairs from her room two-by-two, barely making a sound. At the door, she slid on her low, black heels. Then, she grabbed the key from atop the picture frame, opened the old wooden door, stepped outside, and locked it behind her. She strode across the walled courtyard, grabbed her bicycle from beneath the old oak tree, and headed out.

/|\\

"Dearest brother, perhaps you might consider the context we are in and the way your name might be perceived in this new locale?" Elijah offered, coolly as they walked along the street.

"Pray, tell me why I should one single damn about context," Klaus replied, archly.

"It is only that Klaus sounds a bit Germanic. Perhaps you would be best reverting back to the incarnation of your moniker you held in the twenties. Nick has a rather nice ring to it," Elijah elaborated, straightening the collar of his shirt.

"Fine. Fine. For you brother... but you will owe me," he replied.

"I will fetch you a fine strumpet to sink your teeth into this evening," Elijah offered, knowing what sort of things his little half-brother liked best.

The two brothers continued along the lane in silence for some minutes, taking in the scenery. The colors of the trees, full of vibrant green foliage that rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, the golden and grey stones of the houses on either side, and the freshly waxed black paint on the cars that whizzed by all appeared more vivid to them than to the humans who milled about the village. Klaus grinned broadly, anticipating their immanent conquest of the little, walled settlement and the fun they could have with its residents. Elijah grimaced slightly as the automobiles kicked up dust from the road onto his new, navy blue suit. He wasn't sure how he felt about Klaus' bright idea to make themselves kings of a city so recently ravaged by war and stripped of many of its residents who would never return again. Still, knowing what had happened to his siblings, he knew he was better off with Klaus, supervising him and trying to keep him out of trouble, than against him.

"Well? Aren't you going to ask me what flavor I fancy?" Klaus asked, breaking the silence.

Elijah tried not to roll his eyes. Instead, he waved his hand, palm up, across the streetscape as if to ask which trinket in the shop window his brother fancied the most. There were quite a few to choose from. People were coming out of their stone homes like ants out of their hill, heading to work, school, the market or elsewhere. There was a school teacher, dressed modestly in a dark blue dress emblazoned with a school crest and heels. To her right was a cluster of nuns in their black and white habits, starched and pressed with severity to match the stiffness of their backs. Farther down the road, an old man with grey hair protruding from his nostrils and ears but with none on his head, pushed and pulled at a heavy wooden cart full of lumber. Some children ran about, playing and shouting at one another in high-pitched French, dirtying their school uniforms before the day had even begun. A middle aged woman hung some laundry on a line that ran down from the top story window of her house to the edge of her gated from garden. A shop keeper in a striped apron and baker's slacks down the way, flipped the sign in his window to show the word "Ouverte".

Klaus took it all in as well. His eyes lingered for a moment on each passing figure. Their pulses beat loudly in his ears and he could almost taste their blood. Still, none of them were enticing to him. He was in for something younger. He wanted more than a simple meal; he wanted a pretty face to party with for a day or two while he got the lay of the land in town. He also had a strong desire for someone of consequence, someone who could introduce him to the movers and shakers of the settlement so that he could quickly compel them into obedience and proceed with having his way.

Both brothers were lost in thought, strolling down the street. They were so busy evaluating the prospects farther down the street and farther ahead in the future that they missed what was right in front of them. Without warning, a girl in green dress on a bicycle came hurtling towards them. She thought they would move out of her way in time, but they didn't. So, she swerved sharply, skidding along a rough patch of cobblestone, and tumbling to the ground in front of them. She managed to shield her face from the stones, but she came down hard on her wrist. The bundle of cheese and bread wrapped in a kerchief around her handle bars came tumbling out. Klaus caught the wheel of cheese with a chuckle and some panache. Elijah didn't exactly catch the girl, but he did scoop her up from the pavement mere seconds after she fell.

Elijah plucked the fallen girl up in his arms. She was limp throughout her limbs from the shock of the collision, and her head rolled back across his forearm, her face obscured by a veil of auburn hair. Delicately, he swept the hair back with his index finger. That drew her attention. She snapped back into the moment, her limbs regaining their normal rigidity and tension. She eyes snapped open, and Elijah peered into the shockingly green irises.

"Hello there, little sparrow," he said, completely unaware of the words coming out of his mouth.

"Good show," Klaus added, peering over Elijah's shoulder.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, strutting around as though you run the street?" she sputtered angrily, colour rising up from beneath the ivory clarity of her skin, giving a beautiful rosey hue to her cheeks and a glow to the rest of her complexion.

"Easy there, kitten," Klaus said growled under cover of a chuckle.

"My brother means to say that we are terribly sorry for contributing to your tumble here," Elijah added, his voice as smooth as silk. "And I would be inclined to add that I am terribly sorry for having been so rude as to fail to introduce myself before picking you. A lady like yourself must be appalled at such brutish behaviour."

He let her down gently and she managed to sit up with her own strength, rubbing her wrist.

"My name is Elijah, and this is my brother, Nick," he said, gesturing with his hands.

The girl held out her hand. Elijah grasped it gently and kissed it. She was still slightly angry with them for causing her to fall but Elijah's good manners soothed her hurt pride.

"Marie," she replied.

Klaus bent over Elijah's shoulder and looked directly into the girl's eyes. His pupils dilated as he spoke. "It is very nice to meet you Marie, and you will find that it was very nice to meet us to. You will enjoy seeing us in the coming days and weeks."


	2. Chapter 2

"I am very pleased to meet you, Elijah and Nick," Marie replied, in a monotone but light voice.

The compulsion was a dead giveaway. Elijah knew that Klaus had selected his prize. They would likely be dumping her drained body in the river in less than a week. Klaus didn't generally keep his playthings for long. This saddened the elder brother, who found something very beautiful in the girl's pale skin, rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and slender figure.

"Excellent," Klaus said, smiling mischievously.

"Have you hurt your wrist?" Elijah interjected, concerned by the fact that she was still rubbing it.

"I think it might be sprained," Marie replied, wincing a little as she passed over a particularly painful spot near the bone.

"Why don't you come with my brother and I to our home? It is nearby. We'd only just stepped out of view of it in the few seconds before this unfortunate accident. We can bandage up your wrist. Then, I vow to escort you safely to wherever it was you were headed..." Elijah offered, knowing Klaus would understand from this turn of phrase that he would not let him drain her today.

"I should really just head home to my father..." Marie began, eyeing the two brothers with uncertainty. She knew that she was pleased to meet them and would be eager to see them again as soon as they parted ways, but at the same time, she felt uneasy around them, and instinctively felt that she ought to put as much distance between herself and them as possible. She was perplexed. Her instinct told her to run but her mind and feet were rooted on the spot.

Klaus stopped down to compel her further. "Oh, no, sweet little Marie. You will be coming to our home with us. It would be very wrong of you to deny us the opportunity to set you right after our walking proved to be such a danger to you and your careless cycling."

"I suppose I will take you up on your offer," she said, in the same numb tone as before.

"Very good," Klaus said, grabbing her by her injured wrist with little care or concern for her pain, and pulling her up to her feet. "Up you go."

She bit her tongue and winced. Her wrist was radiating pain now and she suspected that it was broken, but for some reason she could not explain, she did not scream. She felt that it would be a very bad idea to draw any extra attention to herself of the two mysterious brothers.

Elijah grabbed her bicycle. He noticed the frame was slightly bent, and went no one as looking he took a second to use his vampire strength to bend it back into shape. Then, walking along Marie's right side, he rolled her bike. Klaus bookended her, walking to her left. Together they led her to the front door of an elegant but unassuming home.

Marie froze when it became evident that this was the house they were about to enter.

"This... this is your home?" she inquired, with a hint of accusation in her voice.

"Why, love? Do you know of a more posh and fitting residence we could take up in?" Klaus asked, hoping that she would answer in the affirmative.

"My friend Elizabeth Isaac lives here... lived... she lived here," Marie explained, tripping over her words. "Before everything happened with the war, they lived here. It is a beautiful house... we used to play in the back garden. Mrs. Isaac made us little cakes... and Mr. Isaac was always fixing our toys when he wasn't busy reading his books... They were... they were my friends."

"I understand. I was not aware of the house's providence. I do apologize, but the place was vacant when we arrange to purchase it," Elijah said, concerned that the girl wasn't about to start crying and draw the attention of the people in the street.

"A lot of people's homes are vacant now," Marie said, sadly and quietly. "This is the reality of war."

"Indeed, indeed," Klaus replied, trying to hurry the damned girl along.

Still, she would not be hurried. She regarded the exterior for a moment more. This seemed to compose her. She took a deep breath.

"If you should happen to find anything of theirs in the house, in nooks and little hiding places, would you bring it to me? Please promise me that. They... their house did not come to be vacant in a common way. They disappeared on a calm night when not another soul was disturbed from their beds. I have hope they are well and might someday return," Marie explained, looking Elijah directly in the eye.

"Of course," he replied. She had appealed to his natural gallantry and he could not find it in his power to resist such an appeal. Besides, what harm would it do.

"Why don't you come in, love," Klaus offered, anxious to question her further under compulsion about the town, its inhabitants, and such. As well, he rather fancied a taste of her blood.

Klaus opened the door and gestured for Marie to enter. She stepped across the threshold, tentatively. The hard sole of her heels clicked against the stone floors in the entryway. It was the strangest sensation for her to be standing just there, looking through the archway at the end of the hall, into the foyer beyond. It was stripped bare of all the Isaac's things. Once, the white stuccoed walls would have been covered in paintings and photographs. Now, they were bare. None of the furniture remained, and the new owners, the two strange young men she was now in the company of, had yet to fill it with sofas, tables, and chairs of their own. Even the sound of the once familiar dwelling was different. She could vividly remember the sound of the Isaac household: Elizabeth's brother, Jacob, playing piano with vigor and elegance, the other Isaac siblings playing in every room, the barking of their dog Monsieur Malleaux, and the ever-present sound of something being cooked in the kitchen. Now, the entire place was silent. There were no more true sounds, only vague and indistinct echoes.

"I will fetch something to bandage your wrist with," Elijah stated, walking past her, deep into the back corridors of the large house.

Klaus shut the door. Marie felt a slight shiver run down her spine, but all she could think was that she was happy to be continuing her acquaintance with these gentlemen.

Klaus turned to her and was careful to look her in the eye. His pupils dilated in the usual fashion as her spoke:

"Now, love, your arm is feeling much better. It was probably just a bruise. You are so clumsy, and you will refrain from running into people like that again. Now, you're going be a very good girl and answer all my questions."

"Of course," she replied.

"Who is the most powerful man in town and can he be bribed?"

"There's Cardinal Montclaire. People always listen to what he says, but I think he's a bit creepy. I don't know about bribing, I've never bribed anyone."

"Any other powerful people about, love? Who are the main business owners?"

"The Mayor, Monsieur Raveaux is very important. He often dines with my father. My father has one of the best businesses in town. He owns our only bookshop, but we also sell paper and stationary and small gifts and such. Other businesses did poorly during the war and many went away completely after it, but my father makes more and more each day it seems. He is always sending me out with more money than the day before to make our daily purchases of cheese and bread and wine with," she blurted out.

"Ah! Now we are getting somewhere, love. How much does your father value you or your mother? Would you say that he would do anything to save your lives if you were in trouble?" Klaus asked, starting to formulate a plan to barter the girl's life for her father's allegiance and those he associated with.

"My mother is dead," Marie replied sadly. "She died during the war. Her heart gave out. She used to very respected in the community. People would come and talk to her about their problems, including the Cardinal himself. They said she must have had a direct line with God, because a single prayer of hers could bring about all kinds of change to any situation. She's been praying for an end to war when she died. Not even God could fix that problem created by men..."

"Yes, yes..." Klaus replied, annoyed, "but does your father love you very much?"

"I suppose he must, but he is so busy at the shop. We don't speak much..."

Klaus was starting to be very annoyed with the girl's lack of usefulness and inclination to give him worthless answers when Elijah reappeared with some gauze and fabric for a sling. Klaus immediately stopped speaking. He fumed silently in the corner while Elijah bandaged her wrist. He tied the sling over her green-fabric clad shoulder with a little bow.

"I should be getting back to my father," Marie reiterated.

"Fine. Get along then," Klaus snapped, his annoyance preventing him with following through with his plan.

She turned towards the door.

"Wait one moment, I found this while I was looking for a bandage," Elijah said, pulling a small gold locket from his jacket pocket.

The chain was fine and it slipped through his fingers like sand. Marie lurked forward, at a speed that astonished even those two venerable vampires and snatched the locked from his hand. She recognized it as Elizabeth's.

"Thank you," she said timidly, to compensate from the abrupt nature of her actions. "This was my friend's. If you find anything else..."

"Of course," Elijah replied.

"I must be going now. My father will be waiting at the shop for his breakfast. Oh where did the cheese and bread I bought go?" she asked, suddenly remembering the package which had been tied around her handle bars.

Klaus realised he'd been the one carrying her things, which were now in a lump at his feet. He picked them up and tossed them at her, barely even bothering to withhold his vampire strength. She caught the bundle, awkwardly. Elijah frowned at Klaus and offered to walk the girl home, if only to get away from Klaus and the mood he was in.


	3. Chapter 3

"I must apologize for my brother's rudeness. He has an abrupt temper, I must admit," Elijah apologized, walking Marie down the cobbled streets. He was rolling her bicycle along.

"It's quite alright. I am very pleased to have met you both and I look forward to furthering our acquaintance over the coming weeks. Will you be staying in town long?" she replied, looking up at Elijah.

Elijah had to suppress a bit of a chuckle. Sometimes the results of compulsion could be unintentionally funny.

"Why do you ask that?" he asked.

"You don't have any furniture in your home," Marie replied.

"An astute observation. We are waiting for it to arrive."

"Ah."

They walked in silence for a moment. She stole sly glances at Elijah, noting his height, upright posture, chiseled jaw, smart clothing, and clear, dark eyes. She thought him traditionally handsome and very well mannered. It was quite the contrast between him and his brother, Nick. She'd found his features to be irregular, with some, such as his lips to be a touch too large for his facial proportions and over-emphasized. She thought perhaps Nick could be attractive when animated or impassioned because he had the sort of face which leant itself to such things. In contrast, Elijah had a classic appearance. He was handsome in repose.

"How old are you, Marie?" Elijah asked, genuinely curious. Over the centuries, he had seen so many humans that he'd lost the ability to accurately guess their ages.

"Eighteen. Might I ask the same of you?" she replied, blushing a little a feeling a bit of embarrassment of being and feeling rather young.

"Somewhere above twenty and below forty," he replied, smirking at the thought of what sort of reaction the true number might produce.

"I thought only women were supposed to be coy about their age," Marie quipped, her normally sharp personality coming through the haze of the compulsion.

Elijah chuckled. "Ah! But what of the suffragettes and this new age of equality between the sexes?" he parried.

"Is it another new age already? There've been so many of them lately, I can't keep up. A new age of war... A new age of horror... A new age of rebuilding... A new age of national unity... of partnership among nations... of prosperity... or of tempered prosperity... and so on and so on," she remarked, with a wave of her hand.

"You're awfully jaded for your age," Elijah remarked, making it sound more like a compliment than an insult.

"I read," was her only reply.

They walked on in silence, Elijah smirking, until they reached their destination. Elijah noted the large windows on the main floor of the book shop, which allowed passers-by on the street to see the rows and rows of bookshelves inside, decorated by multicolored bindings. He noticed that there were a good number of people inside, considering the early hour. He also noticed the obvious signs of prosperity: the sign hanging out front of the shop was freshly painted; every window was spotlessly clean; and a gleaming, brand-new cash register sat on the front counter. The bookseller was doing a booming trade.

"After you," he said to Marie, gesturing that she should enter the shop first as that was what would be expected of a proper lady accompanied by a gentleman.

"Thank you. Please just rest my bicycle against the windows for now," she replied, crossing the threshold.

Elijah followed her into the shop, admiring it. He watched as she bounded across the floor, between the book cases, her green dress flowing naturally around her legs. She slipped behind the counter and pressed her package of cheese and bread into the arms of the old man behind the cash register. Elijah thought the old man must be her father. Elijah observed him closely. He was wearing grey slacks, suspenders, and a faded yellow shirt. He was almost entirely bald and wore silver spectacles low on his nose. Yet, as Elijah observed the man, the man was observing him. He did not look at his daughter or even take the package from her hands. Instead, he peered across the room into Elijah's eyes with intensity that made the air crackle.

He knows what I am, Elijah thought. Perhaps he is a werewolf, but that won't be a problem as the full moon is far off.

"Papa!" Marie urged, frustrated at being ignored.

"Put them on the counter," her father instructed, never taking his eyes off Elijah. "You are late."

"I fell off my bicycle. That gentleman over there and his brother came to my assistance and bandaged my wrist, although it feels fine now," she explained, gesturing to Elijah.

"I do not care what happened. You had one task to complete this morning and you were late. Tomorrow you will set out earlier. Perhaps if you are in less of a hurry, you will not be likely to run into the ground or strange men," he lectured, finally turning his intense gaze on to his daughter.

Elijah, feeling oddly protective of the girl, strode forward to come to her defense. He closed the distance between them in a dozen or so lengthy strides. When he was within arm's reach, the old man turned his blistering gaze onto Elijah once more.

"Go make the tea! Some of your mothers tea... Now!" the old man barked at his daughter.

For a moment Marie looked like she might protest, but she did not. She bit her lip, slipped through a door behind the till, and began to prepare tea at the little station on the other side of the wall. She put the copper kettle on the small gas burner and lit it. Then, she got down on her hands and knees and dug out the canister of her mother's special tea. It was covered in dust from being unused and untouched since her mother's death. She brushed the dust off the lid and pulled it off. Instantly, the aroma of the tea filled the little room. It was the smell which she most associated with her mother. She took a few deep breaths of the lemon-y scent.

Meanwhile, Elijah remained in front of the counter, not backing down from the old man's glare. He found himself wondering what exactly the old man was, since he did not smell like a werewolf. Elijah was about to conclude that he was merely a cranky, over-protective mortal father with a beautiful only daughter, when he caught a whiff of something almost lemon-y from the backroom where Marie had gone. Vervain. Elijah would have known that smell anywhere. It was the smell of the plant that had grown beneath the white oak tree in the village where his family had died and become vampires. He regarded the old man more closely. Marie had clearly not been on vervain when Klaus compelled her, but she was about to be... The old man was definitely on to him.

Within moments, Marie re-emerged, carrying an earthenware teapot on a tray with three cups. They wobbled as she walked, the weight of the tray further weakening her damaged wrist. Then, she set the tray down on the counter and almost instinctively backed away from her father while waiting for further instruction.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Marie? Serve the gentleman some tea," the old man instructed, his eyes going cold.

"I must decline. I have to be going. I just wanted to return your daughter safely," Elijah replied, backing away.

He left the shop before the old man could force him to drink the poisonous tea, or worse, throw some on him and watch him burn and blister in front of the entire shop. However, he remained close to the shop and listened with his heightened vampire hearing to what transpired afterwards.

"Drink you tea, Marie," the old man insisted.

"But I'm not thirsty, papa," she replied, perplexed by the forcefulness of his demeanor in that moment.

"It is good for your health. You will not leave my sight until you drink a cup of tea."

"Fine," she said with a sigh, sipping from the cup.


	4. Chapter 4

Elijah waited outside of the bookshop, watching the people go by for a few minutes. He mulled over the possibility that the old man was a witch. On the one hand, he clearly had some inclination that Elijah was a vampire and that vervain could protect him and his daughter from compulsion. On the other hand, he had done nothing magical in response to Elijah's presence. He hadn't even tired the usual witch trick of causing small hemorrhages in a vampire's brain. Elijah was perplexed, but he rather enjoyed the puzzle all the same. Initially, part of him had looked forward to the prospect of any easy takeover of Langres. He was tired of dealing with the usual witch and werewolf-infested supernatural haunts which Klaus seemed to favour. Unlike Klaus, Elijah didn't need a difficult struggle to power to give him satisfaction. Still, as he monitored the book store and mulled over the possibilities in his mind, he found that he did rather enjoy strategizing. Perhaps he did not enjoy scheming as much as Klaus, but he was relishing the chance to exercise his mind and hone his deductive abilities.

He watched men in gray caps and women in dresses and heels with children at their sides stroll into the bookstore. He noticed that the men tended to stay in longer and buy nothing. From this he deduced that the bookstore must be a social hub for them, where they could discuss the goings on. Elijah made a mental note of this. Perhaps it would be in the Mikaelson family interest to compel one of these men before more people began to consume vervain, and compel him to report back to them on the conversations which took place in the store. Perhaps they could also use him to plant ideas and divert suspicion.

Elijah also observed the building itself. It was sturdy and built of stone like the others around it. The ground floor, which served as the shop, had many windows and points of access. Further, it was clearly not a residence because vampires could enter it without an invitation. This all seemed very straight forward. Yet, it was the two floors above which puzzled Elijah. Between the two floors, there were only four windows that he could count, and these were boarded-up with wood and newspaper. The fortress-like nature of the upper floors in relation to the glistening glass of the ground floor puzzled Elijah. In the shadows of the surrounding alleys, he made a lap of the building at vampire-speed. He noted that the back of the building was connected to a small tower-like structure which was constructed of a different type of stone, which looked much older than the main building and as though it had once been a part of another building. The tower had arched windows with ornate framework and a heavy oak door which lead out onto a small walled courtyard, dominated by a large oak tree. The tower looked as though it might be in use as a residence, although Elijah thought it was much too small to act as a living space for more than one person. This lead him to wonder if the floors above the store were also so sort of residence. He wondered if he would be unable to gain entry to that part of the building. It could be some vampiric loophole, in the same way that one invitation did not give a vampire access to an entire block of flats, just the individual set of rooms. Elijah made a mental note to try it out later.

Elijah was roused from his thoughts by the re-emergence of the girl, Marie, from the store. She had removed her sling, although her wrist remained bandaged. She was carrying a large stack of packages wrapped in brown paper and tied with strings. Elijah deduced that they must be books. Mary balanced the books on the handle bars of her bike which Elijah had left outside. She prepared to mount the bike. Her wrist was bruised and she was unable to balance them on the bike and mount it at the same time; she lacked the strength. So, her wrist wobbled and the packages books tumbled to the ground. She propped the bike back up against the wall and stooped to retrieve the fallen books. Then, she proceeded to carry her bundle down the street, away from the shop. Elijah followed her with his eyes only at first. Then, when she turned the corner and disappeared from sight, he made his way through the back alleys and followed her.

He watched as she delivered the wrapped bundles of books to various houses. She would knock on the door with her good hand, and wait for the patron to answer. Old ladies, young wives, teenage children, and old men opened their doors and received their books with a smile. Elijah watched to see if anything suspicious happened. He tried to detect whether or not there was any vervain packets in the books or if she was warning anyone about vampires on her father's direction. Neither of these things appeared to be true.

/|\\

Klaus quickly got over his ire shortly after Elijah and the girl left. He had never been very good at dealing with young women. He did not understand why they had to babble on as they did. Why couldn't they just be direct and give him the responses he wanted? What ever happened to a direct yes or no? He's always had this problem with his dear sister Rebecca before he daggered her in the twenties. Back then he'd been inclined to attribute the babbling to hormones and the like, but now he was inclined to believe that it was more to do with a different style of communication in which women were rarely listened to so when they were able to capture and audience, they told them everything they could possibly think of.

He wandered out into the alley behind the house and upon a teenaged school boy, clearly skipping class and smoking a cigarette. In an instant, clause decided to drain the boy. A good feeding always made him feel better. He sped up from behind, clamped his hand over the boys mouth with force, inadvertently breaking his jaw. In a split second, Klaus was sinking his fangs into the boy's tender neck, the hot blood rushing into his mouth. Klaus devoured every mouthful of the viscous red liquid. When he was done with his meal, Klaus gathered the boy's limp body up into his arms and made his way at vampire speed to the edge of the wall which ran the length of the settlement. He jumped the wall, landing gracefully on the other side. Once there he laid the boy's body in the road a mile from the wall and covered it with straw from a nearby field, hoping that a motorist would hit and believe they had killed the boy. Normally, Klaus was not concerned with such forensic counter measures, but until he and Elijah had a handle on the town, he knew he would have to be careful. The last thing they wanted was for their father to find them.

Once that little job was done, he raced back to the city in search of Elijah. Using his vampire-enhanced hearing, he listened for Elijah's voice. He heard nothing. Then, just as he was about to give up and head back to the house, he heard Marie's voice. He neared her and watched as she delivered a book to an old woman. The old woman invited Marie into her home for a cup of coffee, but the girl refused. Klaus continued to observe her as she went from door to door, delivering packages, and being invited into every home she went to. That was when Klaus had a brilliant idea. He finally saw the worth in Marie. He would use her to gain entry to the households of Langres.


	5. Chapter 5

Elijah emerged from the scarce shadows after watching Marie for some time. He had to get closer in order to ascertain whether or not the packages she was delivering were suspiciously timed and contained vervain. He had not heard her mention the herb to any of the people whose doors she had knocked on so far, but for all he knew there could be some sort of code. The fact that everyone kept inviting her in for some sort of beverage of snack might be the key to the code, if there was one. Otherwise, there were no glaring similarities in the conversations she had with each package recipient.

"Hello, again," Elijah said, flanking Marie in the street.

She jumped and let out a little gasp of surprise.

"I am sorry I could not stay for tea with your father. I thought it might paint an inaccurate portrait of my intentions towards you if I were to socialize with your guardian so early on... a bit too like courtship, I am afraid..." Elijah began.

"That's a rather old-fashioned view," was Marie's simple yet rebellious reply. "And rather presumptive that you should think it was my intention to advertise that you were somehow courting me. Did you perhaps consider that I am indifferent or uninterested? Of course I am grateful that you assisted me when I fell from my bicycle this morning, but I am by no means some sort of silly creature who immediately fancies herself in love or courtship with the first man who does something kind for her that day," she ranted, displaying the same feisty side she had when she initially fell from her bike.

"You go from polite and demure to fierce and feral in a breath and a blink." Elijah remarked of her mercurial temperament. He was genuinely confused by her shifting moods, and he was hoping she would respond with another rant so that he would have an opportunity to distract her and examine her remaining packages more closely.

Instead, she just fixed him with a brief glare of her green eyes, turned on her heels, and marched in the opposite direction of him. Elijah chased after her.

"Pardon me my bad manners," he said, catching up with her.

She did not reply. He could see over her shoulder that her mouth was set in a thin line of displeasure. He wondered if her distaste for him meant that she had been aware that he was a vampire. Elijah reached out and wrapped his hand around her shoulder, and used his superior strength to spin her around so that she was facing. He looked her in the eye, and attempted to compel her.

"What is it exactly that is bothering you? Why are you timid in the face of your father and bold in the company of others?" he probed, pupils dilating.

He really wanted some straight forward answers from the girl. He found her attractive enough, but she was proving to be a great deal more trouble than she was potentially worth. From her vervain tea-drinking, vampire-identifying father to all of this running about, he was beginning to be very frustrated by the little sparrow of a girl.

"I beg your pardon, but I believe you are given the wrong impression of the depth of our connection by asking such questions," she replied, mocking him. She extracted herself from his grip and proceeded to continue on down the street.

Elijah was shocked for a split second before he remembered that she had had vervain tea. This complicated matters greatly and he had to salvage the situation before things got out of hand. Still, he had no plan. He walked a few paces in Marie's wake, hoping to figure out a solution by the time he caught up with her. She wound through the streets, with the ease of one who is intimately familiar with a place. Elijah followed her along the street, and around a corner which led to an alley. Yet, when he turned the corner into the alley, she was gone.

He listened hard, trying to figure out where she had gone. He could hear her heartbeat. It was loud and fast. He assumed that she must be hiding from him in the alley somewhere. And if she was hiding from him, he deduced that her father must have told her what he and Klaus were and warned her to stay away. He was about to begin checking in the doorways and behind the dumpsters when a movement in the shadows caught his eye.

Klaus emerged from a shadowy doorway, with one hand firmly around Marie's waist and the other hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror. Elijah stepped forward.

"When between when you left and now did this little creature find the time to consume vervain, dear brother?" Klaus hissed.

"How do you know she is on vervain?" Elijah inquired, calmly.

"I had a little taste," Klaus replied, twisting Marie around so that Elijah could see the blood on the bandage on her wrist where Klaus had bitten her.

Elijah regarded the scene with a calm exterior demeanor. Inside however, he was squirming. He had screwed up in allowing the girl to consume vervain and wander away from him, and Klaus knew it. And if there was one thing Elijah hated it was looking anything less than competent in front of his younger brother. Klaus grinned a little and shrugged his shoulders.

"No harm done. We'll just have to take her home and wait for it to leave her system, " Klaus said. "You don't mind if we commandeer you for a little while, do you, love?" he added to Marie.

"Yes, and in the meanwhile her highly suspicious father, who fed her the vervain and knows what I look like, can rally the troops and hunt us down while looking for her. I think not," Elijah replied, trying to regain control of the situation.

"So what? We'll kill the villagers and find ourselves another place to live then," Klaus countered.

"No," Elijah replied.

"Oh, and why not, dear brother? Because you fancy this little thing? She's rather common... I'm sure there are plenty of cute little French girls in other villages for you to make eyes and a woo with your impeccably gentlemanly nature and stuffy, antiquated manners and sense of duty... Really, you're going soft, Elijah."

"No, Klaus. I do not want to slaughter an entire village because we are trying to evade our father, if you will recall. And if we leave a lengthy trail of bodies in our wake, it will be very easy for him to trace us."

"You know, we only need to keep the girl for a few hours. She barely has any vervain at all in her system. Trace amounts, really. She mustn't have imbibed much of the stuff," Klaus replied. "Surely that won't cause too much trouble."

"Why didn't you say that a moment ago?" Elijah hissed.

"I was trying to suss you out," Klaus replied, still grinning.

"Well, then. How do we get her back to the house without attracting attention?"

"Leave that to me," Klaus replied, picking Marie up and disappearing at light speed down the alley.

Elijah followed him as they leapt over low walls and stuck to back routes and empty alleys. Then, Klaus leapt atop a building and they travelled along the rooftops to their house. They dropped into the courtyard, their journey having gone unnoticed by the slow eyes of the mortals in the streets below.

Klaus kicked the back door open, and carried Marie through. With Elijah close behind, he brought her to one of the house's interior rooms. He tossed Marie into a corner, and left Elijah to supervise her while he sourced a chair and some ropes to restrain her with.

"What in seven hells are you?" Marie demanded, eyes burning brightly the moment Klaus left them alone.

"You mean to say that you do not know?" Elijah replied, intrigued.

"What are you?" she persisted, balling her hands into fists.

"Vampires. The Original vampires, to be precise," he replied.

She did not reply to this. She was dumbstruck.

"And what is your father exactly? A werewolf? A witch?" Elijah asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"He knew that I was a vampire. That is why he made you drink that tea. And that tea is why you are here. You will be in our company until the tea you drank is out of your system," Elijah explained.

"What are you talking about?" Marie repeated, confused, frustrated, and unwilling to believe the things she was hearing.

"How did he know who we are?" Elijah continued, staring into her eyes, wishing that he could just compel the answers out of her.

"Yes. How did this strange little father of yours know that we are vampires?" Klaus interjected, coming through the door behind Elijah.

Klaus was carrying an old wooden chair over one shoulder, and a bundle of heavy ropes and ripped strips of cloth in his hands.

"Found these in the cellar. Rather convenient, actually. There's also _quite _the stash of delicious French wines down there... a couple of very lovely vintages. I say we break into the champagne later, brother," Klaus explained, setting down the chair, picking up Marie, tossing her on the chair and tying her to it.

"What now?" Marie asked, her voice betraying her fear through her fierce tone.

"Now, love, we wait. You're no good to us until free of that vervain. But don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you... much... probably... You're of use to me," Klaus said, smiling his deadly smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Marie's father, Guillaume Bernard, was uneasy. He paced back and forth behind the shop counter. He wondered what was taking Marie so long. Part of his mind knew that she would likely be invited in for tea or coffee t most of the houses on her delivery route, and that she would accept out of natural politeness. She was an obedient girl, after all. Yet, there were vampires about. And one of these vampires at least had met his only daughter. The girl was rather too much like her mother at times for his tastes, but he would not let his genetic lineage, his property, fall into the corrupting hands of a vampire.

Guillaume had learned about the depravity of vampires long ago. When he was a boy, he had lived in Paris, where a rowdy pack of vampires had taken up residence in the 1890s. Every night, the residents of Guillaume's neighbourhood shuttered their windows tightly and barred their doors in fear. And yet, nearly every morning there were more bodies in the streets with puncture wounds, drained of their blood. Good girls, innocent girls, were lured into the vampires' spell. They left their family homes in the night, and wandered out into the dark and seedy streets to their imminent death, or worse, their ruin. It seemed as though nothing could stop the vampires. Certainly there were herbs and folk remedies which could stop them from altering your thoughts and using tricks of mind compulsion to persuade you of things that were untrue... but they still had unparalleled speed, agility, strength, and charms which made them impossible to escape.

Then, one night there was a great ruckus in the square near Guillaume's house. At first, he feared that it was the vampires again, feeding and destroying property. But soon it became evident that this was something else. People rushed out into the streets, with no regard for their safety. In the square a man stood with a sharpened wooden stake in his hand. He had pinned the vampires to a great wall of such stakes, killing them.

The man had the crowd's undivided attention. Guillaume felt a chill as the man passed his gaze over the crowd. Then, four other men, clearly the man with the stake's assistants, unfurled large paper scrolls. On the scrolls, there were portraits; three men and a woman.

"Have you seen these people?!" The man with the stake bellowed. "They are vampires and I seek to save you from them!"

Guillaume had not. Those were not the vampires who'd been tearing through Paris. However, the images on those canvases had been burned in Guillaume's brain ever since. He had not forgotten. He may not have seen those faces when he was a child, but he had seen one now. One of those identified as a vampire had come into his shop today, escorting his daughter Marie.


	7. Chapter 7

They sat in tense and defiant silence. Marie had long since stopped answering their questions. Each was lost in their own thoughts and schemes. Each was focused on their own survival.

Marie's auburn hair thoroughly messy from all the man-handling she had endured thanks to Klaus. In particular, there was a strand which kept getting caught in her mouth. She couldn't wipe it away because her hands were bound. She was unable to process the danger of her situation without wanting to scream until her vocal chords were raw. So, she tried in vain to blow her hair away instead.

Elijah leaned against the wall to Marie's right, staring at his shoes. Occasionally, when he thought it might go undetected, he stole a glance at Marie. He noticed the way that her dress clung to her body where it was bunched and cinched as a result of the ropes Klaus had tied around her. He noticed the colour which had risen to her cheeks in her state of defiance. He noticed the small freckles on her arms and the bridge of her nose. He was conflicted by the fact that he found her very appealing and intriguing, while he knew that he ought to suggest they eliminate her and her father in order to minimize the threat they posed. He wrestled with the urge to run his fingers through her hair and across the tender skin of her neck, and the desire to rip her jugular out and be done with it.

Klaus leaned in the door way, drinking directly from a bottle of Bordeaux he's retrieved from the cellar. He watched his brother watching the girl. He knew Elijah would not let him torture any information out of her while they were waiting for the vervain to work its way out of her system. Yet, he was growing impatient. He wanted to make use of the girl and her standing in the community. He longed to make her their spy, and use her to gain the upper hand on those, like her father, who would do them harm.

"You know, we could speed this whole process up," Klaus suggest at last, unable to take it anymore.

Elijah raised one eyebrow.

"A little drop here, a little drop there..." Klaus said, shrugging his shoulders. "We wouldn't even have to bleed her out. There's not much vervain in her system."

Marie stopped trying to blow the hair out of her mouth. She froze, terrified. Elijah gave Klaus a pointed look.

"Oh, don't worry... I don't intend to kill her. I believe she is going to be unbelievable useful," Klaus replied, nonchalantly.

"You don't want to kill her?" Elijah asked, shocked. Klaus' usual method was kill now, ask questions later.

"You do?" Klaus asked, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. He was certain that Elijah was found of the little human waif and would rather kiss her than kill her.

Marie began to quiver with fear. Under her breath she started to pray to her god, to any god, that would save her. She was no ready to die. She wanted to live more than anything in the world. If only she had her hands free, she would fight for her life. But, she was trapped, so all she could do was pray.

"No," Elijah admitted. "I do not wish to kill her."

"Well then, would you like the first taste, or shall I?"

"I suppose it would do to built up our immunity to vervain again if that pesky herb is about," Elijah responded after a moment's consideration.

Klaus put down the bottle of Bordeaux and took a few steps towards Marie. Then, he stopped, turned around, and picked the bottle back up again.

"Do you reckon she'll pair well with red?" Klaus joked.

"Enough toying with her. If we are going to do this, let us just do it," Elijah said, fed up with Klaus' manipulative games.

Marie closed her eyes as tightly as she could.

"After you," Klaus replied, unable to resist one last play in the game.

Elijah crossed the floor to where Marie was bound. He brushed the hair out of her face, slowly and gently. He felt her shiver under his touch. He leant down and untied her hands, one at a time. Everything in Marie's mind was screaming at her to run, to strike at him, to fight back, but she couldn't. She was frozen on the stop, paralyzed by fear and unable to move. It was as though she was imprisoned inside her own skin.

Elijah knelt down beside the chair, and whispered in her ear: "I will do my best to ensure that this doesn't hurt."

Then, Elijah took her already bandaged wrist, pulling back the gauze, and put it to his lips. Gently, he sunk his fangs into her soft skin. It was like a warm knife going into butter, so easy. He could understand how some vampires could lose control and shred a victim, there was something entirely too enticing about how easy it was to sink one's fangs into human flesh. Carefully, he sipped at her blood, careful not to drink too deeply. It was difficult to do; her heart was pounding, driving the blood through her veins at a rapid pace. Each drop burned with vervain.

Klaus watched the scene with a mixture of amusement and jealousy. He enjoyed the fact that he had manipulated Elijah into feeding off of the girl who he clearly fancied. At the same time, there was something in the tenderness Elijah exhibited towards the girl made Klaus long for a little fling of his own. A small part of Klaus longed for that some of uncompelled connection. At the same time he was jealous of the girl and the attention she was receiving from his brother. Klaus wanted the undivided attention and loyalty of his family, and this girl was starting to present a slight threat to that.

"Don't be greedy, dear brother. I need a bit of that vervain as well," Klaus said, interrupting the interaction.

Elijah put her wrist down, tempted to press a kiss into it, and stood again. He stepped back a few inches, just enough to allow Klaus access to her wrist, but not too far away to stop him if he got carried away. Klaus walked towards his brother, pressing the half-empty bottle of wine into Elijah's hands. He got down on his knees and sunk his teeth into her wrist with considerably more force that Elijah had.

Marie gasped in pain, and her eyes shot open. She scanned the room, searching for an exit, searching for some kind of solace, searching for anything to distract her from the pain. Elijah sensed the movement, and turned his upper torso to her. He caught her gaze and held it. They stared into each other's eyes, and he could feel something surge through them. He felt her drawing on his strength. That was when Elijah realised that she was a witch. She was an unprincipled witch, unaware of her own power and her lineage likely, but she was a witch all the same.

Klaus drank deeply until he could no longer taste any vervain in her system, and a little more, just to be sure. He took one last lavish lick of her wrist. The he pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket and made a few small cuts in her wrist to obscure the fang marks. She cried out at this. Klaus paid her no mind. When he was done, he replaced the bandage, and stood up again.

Marie blinked and Elijah felt himself being released from whatever spell she had instinctively cast. The force of the withdrawal caused him to wobble a bit back on to his heels. He took a deep swig from the wine bottle to cover up the gesture.

"Vervain-free," Klaus proclaimed. "Now, love, let's get down to business."

He made eye contact with Marie and compelled her to answer his every question truthfully, fully, and also – importantly – concisely.

"How does your father know that we are vampires?" Klaus began.

"I don't know. I never even knew vampires were real until today, and my father had never mentioned vampires before. He didn't even tell me that Elijah was a vampire today. He just told me to make some of my mother's tea," Marie replied, all of the spark gone from her eyes and voice.

"Did your mother know about vampires?" Klaus inquired.

"I don't think so. She was a religious woman, very religious, and she believed in the paranormal, but she never said the word vampire in my presence."

"You mentioned tea. Did your mother always drink this tea?" Klaus asked.

"Every day. Always," Marie replied.

"Did she ever give the tea to other people?" Elijah asked, taking his turn at the compulsion questioning.

"My father. He insisted on drinking it with her always. If she ever forgot to give it to him, he would get very angry and shout at her."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"I see," Elijah replied.

"Anything else we need to know?" Klaus asked Elijah.

"Did you ever deliver any of that tea in the book packages from the store?" Elijah asked.

"No. I wrapped the books myself and nothing else went in them today. During the war, sometimes father would put documents in them for people... forged passports and birth certificates... for some of the Jews," Marie explained.

"That's it," Elijah concluded.

"Well, then, love," Klaus said, addressing Marie. "You are going to forget meeting Elijah in the street today. You are going to forget that we grabbed you and brought you here. You are going to forget that we fed from you and asked you questions. You delivered your books to all of your clients. They were very thankful, and you stayed late, having tea with one of them... invent a name that would be most plausible to your father. You lost track of time, and you're very sorry for staying out so late."

"Yes, I should be going," Marie replied in a monotone voice.

"A few more things before you go," Klaus added. "You will not drink any more of that tea. If your father tells you to drink it, you will pretend to do it, but not a drop shall pass over your lips. Furthermore, you will come back here tomorrow on the pretense of running an errand."

"And tonight, after dark you will come down to your front door after your father is fast asleep and invite me into your home," Elijah added.

"Yes," she replied, before getting up and going back to the bookstore.


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Hey, everyone! Thanks so much for reading this story so far. I am having fun writing it... I hope you are having fun reading it. If you have the time, __please leave a review__! I would love to know what you have been enjoying the most and least about the story so far so that I can continue to improve it. :)_

She walked out the front door and along the cobbled streets, her heels clicking sharply on the stones. It was nearly dinner time and the streets were empty. All the well-behaved children had already run home to the waiting arms of their mothers and the warm meals simmering on the stove. A younger girl might have felt a little vulnerable walking the ancient, winding streets alone when they were so empty. But Marie had grown up in this town and she knew every nook and cranny of its streets.

She felt a little woozy, and thought that perhaps she was tired. She did not know why she had stayed out so late drinking tea with Madame du Montrieux. The old woman could chat up a storm, but usually Marie managed to escape before the end of an hour or two. Perhaps her headache came from the grating tone of the old woman's voice. Her wrist also hurt. She was surprised at how much the cobblestones had cut up her skin. She vowed to be more careful riding her bicycle in the streets and in engaging in conversation with old shut-ins.

She made her way home without incident. She noted that the lights were already out in the main part of the bookstore and the front doors were barred, but her trained eye could just make out a faint light coming from the back room. She made her way around to the back of the house, letting herself in through the tower door. She slipped off her shoes and made her way up the stairs, as quietly as possible. She then turned and passed through the hall which connected the old tower to the main building. At the end of the hall, she came to the heavy oak door which marked the entrance to her father's portion of the house. She knocked.

"Marie?" her father shouted through the door.

"Yes, papa," she replied.

"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?" Guillaume barked, careful not to utter an invitation in case there were vampires with her or she had been turned into a vampire in the intervening hours since she had left to deliver the books.

Marie turned the handle on the door and entered her father's living space. As long as Marie could remember, her father lived in the new addition to the house, amongst the books, just above the stock room. Her father had always lived in there alone, her mother hadn't even had a room in the addition, even though it was larger and much more spacious than the narrow tower. So, she and her mother had lived out their days, banished to the narrow rooms that were all that was left of the original house, only seeing Guillaume when it was time for his tea or meals, and when he was down in the shop.

Marie had always known that her parent's marriage was a bit draconian. Her father ruled over their little family with an iron fist. It always seemed that he had something over her mother, some power over her, but Marie could never figure out what it was. So, she feared her father her entire life and suppressed her personality in his presence. Thus, humbled, she entered her father's flat.

"Where have you been?" Guillaume demanded, peering at her over the pages of his book.

"Out delivering the books. Madame du Montrieux invited me in for tea. She was so lonely that I couldn't refuse her. Once she had me inside, she kept talking for so long that i thought I would never have the chance to leave again. You know how she is... she scarcely leaves a pause for you to politely excuse yourself in."

"I had to source my own dinner," he snapped.

"I am very sorry, papa."

"Did you see that young man from this morning again today?" Guillaume probed, staring his daughter down.

"No, papa. Why do you ask?" she replied, flatly.

"Do not lie to me, Marie," he barked.

"I am not, papa. I haven't seen him since this morning when he brought me back to the shop after I fell," she said, the compulsion influencing her every word and thought.

"Yes, you injured yourself... Come here, now," he ordered, putting down his book with a thud.

Marie stepped forward.

"Show me your wrist," he commanded.

Marie held out arm, and watched passively as her father unwrapped her bandaged wrist, exposing the red, cut-open flesh to the air. She winced.

"What is this? I thought you fell from your bicycle," Guillaume asked, demanding an explanation.

"I cut myself on some sharp stones," she replied.

Guillaume examined her wrist more carefully, trying to discern whether or not there were any fang marks on her wrist. He couldn't decide whether they were or not. The cuts struck him as suspicious, too clean to have been caused by a fall, but they were not bites.

"Fine. Go to bed now," he ordered.

"But I haven't had dinner yet," she replied.

"That is the consequence of your being out too late. I did not have a proper hot dinner tonight because you were gone. I see no reason why you should have any either. To bed. Now," he ordered, with finality in his voice.

"Yes, papa," she said, retreating quickly from the room, and closing the door behind her.

/|\\

"You have a terrible weakness for pretty faces, dear brother," Klaus began, taking a swig from the second bottle of wine he had opened since the girl had left.

Elijah ignored him, heading into the closet to try on another evening jacket. He ordered some new wardrobe items from his favourite tailors in Florence, Paris, and London, to be delivered to the estate in Langres prior to their arrival. Of course, he had compelled each of the shop keepers to forget his name and new address and gave them a false name to file his measurements under if his father should go looking there for a lead on their whereabouts. Still, he was a man of fashion and manners and even when on the run he found it essential to be well put together... and being near clause had a way of ruining most of his suits somehow.

"I mean, what else could account for the fact that you let a human, who we'd compelled, go drink vervain, which was given to her by her father who recognized that you were a vampire due to reasons yet to be confirmed?" Klaus continued, with an edge in his voice.

"And what you have had me do? Eviscerate her father in a crowded and well-lit bookshop?" Elijah retorted, straightening the lapels of the jacket. "Have you seen a box of bowties?"

"Even know, you dandy, you are making yourself more appealing for your midnight call to her home. Did I mention that that was a rather brilliant move on your part, my sly brother? Use compulsion to worm your way into her home, at night, after her father is fast asleep, and then sweet talk you way into her bedroom, into her arms..." Klaus drawled, mischievously.

"I would not insult the young lady's virtue thusly," Elijah responded, rifling through a pile of boxes in the closet.

"Oh, I rather think you intend to insult her virtue, repeatedly..."

Elijah shot Klaus a withering gaze.

"It's no matter to me. By all means, enjoy the sweet, wild little French girl, just ensure that we get valuable information out of her in the meantime, and do not impede my plans," Klaus elaborated.

/|\\

Elijah waited in alley behind the bookstore. He presumed that the entrance to the main living quarter was through one of the doors at the rear. He hoped that he had guessed correctly that this is where Marie and her father lived. He hadn't thought to ask their address. Still, he figured that his guess had been correct, when he noticed the faintest light behind the boarded up windows on the main building. After an hour or two, the light went out. Elijah waited patiently.

Thirty minutes later, he could just make out the sounds of bare feet on stones with his vampire hearing. Quickly, this turned into the sound of bare feet going down stairs one at a time, carefully, and quietly. He remained in the shadows as he heard the footsteps grow nearer to the inside of the turret-like structure's door. He watched and listened as whatever mechanism barred the door from the inside was unlocked, and it was pushed open, the slight squeak of the heavy iron hinges sounding like the call of a bat in the night. A delicate, white hand reached around the door frame. Her luminescent white face soon followed, peeking out into the night. Elijah could feel the heat from her eyes as she searched for him in the darkness.

He stepped forward so that she could see him. She did not jump.

"Please come in," she whispered, her voice no more than the faint sound of air floating across her vocal chords.


	9. Chapter 9

Elijah returned to the house in the wee hours of the morning. Klaus had been waiting all night for his return so that he could goad him and probe him for details on his encounter with sweet little Marie. That his brother had stayed out late only fueled his suspicions and mischievous ideas.

"Hello, brother," Klaus said, as Elijah entered the house.

"Hello," Elijah replied.

"Well...? How was she?" Klaus prodded.

Elijah said nothing. That was when Klaus noticed the piece of paper that he was clutching in his palm.

"What is that?" Klaus inquired.

Elijah unfurled the little scrap of paper to reveal a drawing. It was all swirls and delicate lines in a semi-circle like a medallion. Klaus examined it carefully, but he could not figure out what the symbol meant. He'd never seen anything like it. He looked at Elijah waiting for an explanation.

"Their house is comprised of two buildings: the original, of which little remains, and a larger modern addition. Her invitation could only permit me to enter the older portion. Her suspicious father lives in the large new section alone. This symbol was above the door to that portion. It appeared to have been hand-carved... and I have a sneaking suspicion that it is a witch's symbol of some sort. It looks vaguely familiar to me," Elijah explained.

"I've never seen anything like it. It could just be some silly scribble, meant to look pretty," Klaus countered.

"I am going to consult an old friend and witch about this," Elijah declared.

"What? Antonia in Paris?"

"Of course. I can trust her, and she has a wide-ranging knowledge of magic history."

"Yes, but she's so thoroughly dowdy and dull..." Klaus whined.

"I was not asking you to accompany me, brother," Elijah replied, matter-of-factly. "I intend to depart immediately and will be gone for some days. Watch out for Marie and avoid her father. Use her as you had planned, but I'd rather that you didn't kill her... although I know that my asking will not change your mind in the least should you happen to have murderous intentions while I'm away."

"Yes, yes. I'll try not to cause and scene and all that jazz," Klaus drawled.

"If you could just refrain from making the streets run red with blood for a week it would be greatly appreciated."

/|\\\

Guillaume tossed and turned in his bed. He was dreaming, images and ideas firing in his brain with alarming rapidity. One minute he was a boy again, trapping inside after dark afraid of every bump and noise from outside in the night. The next he was going with his father to identify his elder sister's body. The marks on her neck and wrist were crusted with dried blood. His mother's face contorted with the force of her cries. The man in the street with the stake and the pictures. The face of the man... the man who had been in his shop today... during the daylight. It was impossible. Then it was his wife's face when he told her he knew about her magic. Then his plans... the knife... the night... and then he awoke with a start.


End file.
